


Love is Optional

by Madam_Red



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Blood and Gore, Branding, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Nisha is a Psychopath, Scarification, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Red/pseuds/Madam_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor bastard had no idea how much this was turning her on. Too bad he was delusional with his fever. He might have enjoyed the attention he was getting.</p><p>Nisha's kinks are messed up, and the Jack's poor Doppelganger gets to suffer them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is Optional

**Author's Note:**

> I was really trying to write something fluffy and cute. But Nisha doesn't do cute and this happened instead. Oops. I figured some people out there might enjoy this, so I'm posting it. Whatever.

They'd gotten separated from the others.

Lost, really. 

Nisha wasn't about to admit to the fact it was her fault, and Jack? He was too nervous to bring up the fact he knew she was terrible with directions. Well. Calling him Jack was probably going to get really confusing for her. He wasn't really Jack. Nisha squinted over the fire, peering towards the body double with a look of interest. She couldn't very well call him Timothy, either, could she? Nope. She wasn't even suppose to know his real name. 

Fake Jack? Jack2.0? 

She was going to have to work on a nickname for him. 

Nisha nudged the blade of her knife into the fire, stoking up the heat to fight off the chill of the night. Sitting on their arses wasting time, that's all this was. She loathed waiting for anything; it made her more grumpy and violent than usual. Especially when she knew the others were out there slaughtering Scav's without her. But there was nothing else to be done but wait for the rest of their team to travel back around and meet up with them. Mister hero complex over yonder had to go and get himself injured. Ugh. 

She could have kept going on her own, sure. But abandoning someone who took a scav-blade to the stomach for you was kind of a bad way of saying thank you. Even she wasn't that much of a bitch. He'd probably get himself eaten alive by wild Kraggons or end up the main BBQ at a Tork feast. Real Jack would have bitched about losing a good body-double. 

Maybe. 

Or was she going soft? Nisha crunched up her face, and spit to the side of their little hole in the wall. Nah. 

"Hey, ya' still alive over there, or what?" She called out to the other occupant of the small cave. Silence echoed back to her. Aww. Shit. Was he dead? The woman slammed her knife down into the hunk of smoldering wood beside her, and hauled herself to a standing position. She slipped around the fire and peered down at a Timothy. Was he asleep? She toed him lightly, only receiving a slight groan from his unconscious frame. 

Nisha frowned, sinking down to one knee at his side. He looked flushed, but the hand she placed to his forehead found cool and clammy skin. Oh. Great. She hauled up his shirt, and scowled at the makeshift bandage they had fixed along his midsection. It was still bleeding sluggishly, and probably infected. Great. 

She reached for her knife, hauling it out of the wood and setting it to rest on a rock in the flames. While the fire licked over the blade she turned back to the man before her. With her amber eyes furrowed as she pulled away the bandage and took in the sight of the wound. Yep. That hot red skin and the white blanched wound oozing dark blood looked infected to her. A wound like that was probably lethal. Probably. Nisha rustled around in the pocket of her jacket to pull out a flask, the metal of it glinting in the firelight. This was going to be fun. 

She positioning herself to sit on his hips, and gathered his arms above his head. They were tied snug at the wrists with the length of her whip. In any other situation? This might have turned her on a little. Well. She wasn't going to lie. It was turning her on a bit. Poor bastard. 

She was pretty rubbish at this hero-stuff. But he wouldn't let her do this when he had been awake. The whiny baby had flatly refused to let her burn the wound closed so they could keep on going. Well now it was infected. Ha! He should have listened to her from the beginning. Whatever. She was no field medic. She spent most of her time killing people rather than trying to save them. But she did know a thing or two about keeping yourself alive. 

Nisha took a moment to admire his features, tongue darting out over her lips and licking away the salt of sweat that had dried there earlier. God, he was handsome. Even if he was just a body double. That face, flushed, and lip parted with husky breaths? Yeah. She could get use to looking down at that. She lifted her fingers, petting idly at the side of his face. 

"Oh, it'd be fun to make you beg for more." She husked out to him. This was pretty fucked. Even for her. 

She loved it. 

Nisha set one hand on his stomach, spreading the wound open while she uncorked her flask with her teeth. The cork was spat to the side and she unceremoniously dumped the stream of amber liquid onto his wound. He reacted instantly, eyes flashing open in a daze of pain as the wound frothed white. As he screamed out she caught his wrists with one hand and forced his struggling frame back against the dirt with her weight. She arched her own back, ignoring the sensation of his hips bucking up against her pelvis. 

"Fuck'n hold still you momma's boy." She growled out at him roughly, meeting the wild look in his eyes with a scowl. He relaxed slowly with a mumble of curses and incoherent words tumbling off his lips as he stared past her. She waited until he stopped fighting her hold on him to release her own breath. Fuck. He was stronger then he looked. 

A stream of red and pink was bubbling off his torso, trickling down over his flesh. He wasn't the most toned individual. But no doubt the training he had endured for this little gig had improved his physique drastically. Nisha set a hand to his shoulder, and leaned in to run her tongue along the mixture of whiskey and blood running down his navel. 

It tasted divine, and she growled out a soft note along her tongue as she swallowed it back. He tasted like more, and she barely resisted digging her tongue into his wound. Oh. But there was much more fun for her do here. 

She leaned back, fingers plucking the red-hot knife from the fire and watching it hiss in the air. He was going to either hate her, or love her when he woke up. If he woke up, that is. Who knows. She could fucking kill him trying to do this. But if it worked? Awesome. 

The gunslinger clenched her hips around her prey, and set one hand back against his wrists. There was no hesitation, no second guessing. She plunged that knife into his stomach and bared a grin as he shrieked under her. He struggled anew, and writhed under her just how she liked it. 

"You hot bastard, yes." Nisha husked out, slowly gliding the red-hot blade along his flesh. She watched with masochist interest as the skin burned tight and smoldered. "Hold on for me," She purred, tightening her hold to try keep him still before he thrusted into the blade and ended up puncturing an organ. 

His voice modulator was crackling, throwing his cries into unique pitches she didn't think a human could make-- and no doubt? It was going to draw attention to their little hide out. They had barely gotten away with a small fire. She pulled her blade back, and set it back into the fire to warm it back up. He was still struggling, screaming at her, and she saw only one solution to it. She sunk her fingers into his hair, and forced him back with her lips sealed over his own. 

She muffled those screams by swallowing them back, working her tongue against his teeth as he tried to bite at her. Poor bastard had no idea how much this was turning her on. Too bad he was delusional with his fever. He might have enjoyed the attention he was getting. 

Well. Minus the pain. He was kind of a wimp when it came to the pain. 

The kiss lasted a few heart beats, and when she pulled away he was too busy trying to catch his breath to scream. One point, Nisha. 

The woman flipped her knife in the flames, content that it was clean, before she sunk the blade back against his flesh-- sealing off the remainder of the wound to the sound of his pained gasps for air. 

He screamed again, but this time his voice was hoarse, and the sound of it kept cutting in and out. It didn't make this any less arousing for her. Nisha set her knife aside, and ground her pelvis against his hips roughly. It distracted him, nearly as much as the kiss she was forcing him into. Did it matter to her that she was violating the man when he was inhibited? Nope. 

She rocked herself against him, seeking the friction to ease the delirious lust that had built for him. While she worked her tongue down his throat? Nisha grasping roughly at his shoulders; nails digging into the flesh as she continued to dry hump his leg. It wasn't enough and the poor bastard was in no condition to aid her. She cursed, pulling away from his swollen lips to sit back and lean away from him. He stared up at her, dazed and confused in the heat of his fever. He was mumbling something, arching up towards her and getting nowhere with his struggles. 

It was kinda cute. 

She chuckled at him, watching his eyes trail her fingers as she unzipped her pants and wormed them down her hips. Even half out of his mind? He whimpered and panted at the sight she made when she sat back down on his hips; her jeans around her knees and purple underwear hiding little from the imagination. 

"A shame you won't remember much of this." Nisha purred out at him, eyes lulled as she ran her fingers through the drying blood on his stomach. The muscles there clenched, and he hissed as the movement tugged at his wound. A grin pulled along her lips. The woman flexed her fingers, nails cutting into the skin and leaving red lines down his flesh. He whimpered, and she panted to the sound of it. "Although, personally," She leaned closer. "I think the real loss is that you're not in any condition to fuck me right now." His response was breathy groan. 

Nisha slipped one hand down her stomach, leaving the red of his blood to smear her skin and vanish under the thin material of her thong. He stared, completely distracted as she worked two fingers along her sex. As if he had never seen a woman touch herself. Hell. Maybe he hadn't. There was a smirk tugging at her lips as her free hand rolled the knife in the fire where she had set it. She waited until he was struggling, trying to reach out for her weakly. She waited until riding her own hand wasn't enough. So close. Yet? So far. She flicked her thumb over her clit, body shaking as she sought release. 

Then? 

She forced the edge of her blade against his stomach and groaned as he screamed. She gasped as his broken voiced hissed out curses and leaned in to lick the tears from tears in his eyes. He was writhing, squirming-- and fuck. It felt so good. Nisha moved the knife, sinking it down until she had burned two extra lines into the corners of the wound-- effectively branding an "N" with the wound on his stomach. 

She climaxed to his frantic screaming, once more smothering them with an abrupt kiss.


End file.
